Vindictive Revelry
by HarlieWrites
Summary: Some memories are too powerful for even the hardest drugs. One-shot. Cook.


**Okay, so I've been sitting on this one awhile. It's my first Cook fic. As usual I was inspired by a song, this time it's _Dancing With Tears in my Eyes_ by Ke$ha. Yes, I know... _Ke$ha_... Not the most quality music but hey, by the looks of it Ke$ha could be a real life Cook. Anyway, the song made me dream up this oneshot. It's kind of a muddle of all my Cook emotions, but I tried. I hope to right more Cook soon, but for now this is my trial. Any feedback is amazing. Enjoy.**

_Here we go, welcome to my funeral_  
**_Without you I don't even have a pulse_**  
_All alone it's dark and cold_  
_With every move I die_

_Here I go, this is my confessional_  
**_A lost cause, nobody can save my soul_**  
_I am so delusional_  
_With every move I die_

**_I have destroyed our love, it's gone_**  
_Payback is sick, it's all my fault_

_I'm dancing with tears in my eyes_  
**_Just fighting to get through the night_**  
_I'm losing it_  
_With every move I die_

_I'm faded, I'm broken inside_  
**_I've wasted the love of my life_**  
_I'm losing it_  
_With every move I die_

_On the floor I'm just a zombie_  
**_Who I am is not who I wanna be_**  
_I'm such a tragedy_  
_With every move I die_

_This is it and now you're really gone this time_  
**_Never once thought I'd be in pieces left behind_**

He can't feel anything; it's bliss, wonderful. His mind feels as if it is floating peacefully in water, even though his body is moving rapidly to the beat, arms thrashing. His head jerks back and forth quickly and his neck spasms, but the pain feels good, adding to his ecstasy. Cook's definitely high, but he's not sure what on... just that it's amazing, _numbing_. The bodies that surround him embrace him, love him. Everyone feels heavenly, just like Cook; all cruel thoughts and memories erased. A girl grabs his hands, pulls him closer. He's used to this, he knows what to do. He runs his hands down the stranger's body...touching her in all the right places. She pushes herself into him and moves to the beat of the music.

The night seems to never end; dancing, swearing, screaming, groping. Cook begins to believe that everything is returning to normal... that he's himself once more. He believes that life will be simple again, easy. Mindless.

**He will be Cook. **

But who's Cook, you may ask? Surely you've heard of him. James Cook, notorious man whore, doesn't give a fuck... lives for just one person, himself. Cook doesn't get caught up in silly shit like love and caring. Who needs to care? Caring gets you nowhere. **Caring fucks you up.**

Or at least, that's what everyone thinks about Cook. Ask anyone in College, they'd use a variety of delightful adjectives: wanker, caveman, shithead, unintelligent. Bloody perfect too, 'cos that's what Cook wants them to think, but he actually isn't as stupid as everyone believes. Cook fools everyone into thinking he doesn't care, that life is one big game. In fact he's so brilliant at it that soon he even started to fool himself.

But in truth, Cook does care. You see, Cook cares about Paddy, his neglected, naive brother... Cook cares about his Mother, the egotistical crazy bitch that she is. Cook cares about his best lesbro Naomi, even if she thinks all he wants is a bit of lezzer willy-waggle.

Cook cares about Freddie and JJ. He cares about them more than anything; his best friends, his true family. When his Mother wasn't around, when his father fucked off... there they were. They've always been there, putting up with all his shit. Cook is a major fuck up, but that doesn't matter to them, they love each other. **They are a team, the three musketeers, in it together.**

That was until sweet little Elizabeth Stonem came along; Effy. Cook had never loved a girl before. Really, _really_ loved.

It had started out the same as usual: sex, drugs, lust... more sex, more drugs. Cook hadn't noticed, even Effy hadn't noticed, when somewhere along this path of **destruction**, something **beautiful** was stirring. Cook hadn't noticed that when Freddie started to get in the way, when Freddie wanted _her_, Cook wasn't just playing anymore. He didn't keep Effy from Freddie just for shits and giggles, to piss the big Fredster off. Cook was keeping her because he wanted her, he _needed_ her. He feared losing her. And then Cook feared his fear of losing her.

Effy isn't just the only girl he's ever loved, she's also the only person that has the capability to scare him, and not much scared Cook. But Effy? Oh, she could make Cook quiver in his little boots. The reason? Love. **  
Love is a dangerous element. Love is powerful.  
**Cook has always been the one in control, but Effy... she made him hesitate, question himself. Cook was right to be scared, for Effy too easily ripped to shreds his only true family he ever had. For the first time in Cook's short but eventful life, Freddie and JJ weren't there. He was lost without them, wandering through life as if he was **blind**. Bedding girl after girl and jumping from club to club, but never really **seeing,** never really _feeling_. But it's not _Effy's_ fault, is it? Of course not. Cook's the fuck up, remember? Effy never did anything wrong, except be her beautiful, irresistible self. And Cook was there, in her firing line. She never wanted Cook, Cook didn't _care _enough.

Cook let out a dry laugh to himself, "Oh Effy Stonem, you will never know just how much I cared."

Cook doesn't _want_ to care; **caring is falling. **Caring is losing control, letting power slip through your fingers, like tiny grains of sand. And just the same as caring, it feels nice, all that grainy sand sliding through the gaps in between your fingers. It's soothing, warm. That is, until it's all gone, and you're left with nothing but an empty palm and a broken heart.

So here Cook was, back at the start. Minutes earlier he had been so free, so empty. For some reason the drugs weren't working anymore, and he had somehow spiraled back to where he was before, what he had been trying to escape from. The thoughts plagued him. He tried to force them away, replace them with the music and the ass of the girl before him. It was too late. His body didn't stop moving, and his arms didn't stop thrashing, but the thoughts lingered. There in the middle of the throng of moving bodies, was Cook, dancing with tears in his eyes.

**Review if you will. It would be so so lovely.**


End file.
